


The LexCee Collaborations

by Amalia Kensington (amaliak01), Emcee



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Collaboration, F/M, Fanart, Inspired by Fanart, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-06-03 03:52:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19455784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amaliak01/pseuds/Amalia%20Kensington, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emcee/pseuds/Emcee
Summary: A collection of Sherlolly drabbles and fanart collabs by Emcee and Lexie, liberated from their Tumblr prison.





	1. Falling

He couldn't pinpoint the moment it happened. He would spend months-- years-- going through his mind palace, trying to locate the exact time his feelings had changed. Perhaps it was not just some switch that flipped in his brain.

When Molly moved in with him following his return, there was quite a bit of talk. As he had once commented, people did little else. It was just a matter of having a spare room at Baker Street. John was living with his wife and Sherlock needed the company.

But it was more than that.

It was Molly.

The situation was not as it was with John. He did not regard the rumours of their relationship with indifference. He felt pride. He enjoyed that no man would go after Molly Hooper because she was his.

His.

But she still wasn't his. Not really.

Molly was constantly frustrated by her inability to get a date. No man would go after her, because of Sherlock. He played it cool. As long as Molly was effectively off the market, what did it matter if he stated how he felt?

Then, he found it. The dating profile she had put up. She'd left it where anyone could see it, in her password protected email. She had made a date with some podiatrist from Ealing.

He'd remained quiet as she dashed about the flat, getting ready. She was dressed conservatively, but with an innocent allure that only Molly Hooper seemed capable of possessing, in a yellow cardigan with barrettes in her hair. He knew that podiatrist would be wondering how long it would take him to unbutton that knit top.

Molly had stopped her rushing to glance out the window. It was raining. She grabbed her pink umbrella and took a step towards the door.

"Are you really going?" Sherlock questioned.

"What?" Molly paused. Her brows rose and she looked at him in surprise. "What are you...?"

"Are you really going out on a date?" Sherlock's fingers were steepled beneath his chin. "With some divorced, boring podiatrist with two children and an addiction to online poker?"

"You read--" Molly's jaw dropped.

"Why are you going out with him?" Sherlock demanded.

Sherlock could see Molly's chest rise as she took a deep breath, trying to steel herself. She was angry at him for reading her email, but she was pushing it down. "Can you give me a very compelling reason I shouldn't?"

Sherlock opened his mouth to speak. He wanted to say it. He wanted to say all of the things that were in his heart, but his mouth wouldn't let him. His tongue felt heavy. He closed his mouth again, shaking his head.

"That's what I thought."

Molly left the flat. Sherlock remained still in his seat for a long moment, closing his eyes. He took deep breaths, trying to quell the waves of emotion threatening to roll over him.

Finally, he could take no more. He rose to his feet and peered through the curtains down at the street. Molly was struggling to open her umbrella while she hailed a cab.

She would be gone. She would leave him. She would go off into another life. Leave him behind.

Sherlock raced to the door. He thundered down the stairs, nearly tripping in his haste. He couldn't let her go. He couldn't have her slip through his fingers.

The cab had just come to a stop when Sherlock reached Molly. He put his hand on her shoulder, whirling her around.

Molly looked up at him, her eyes wide in shock.

There were so many words. There were too many words. There so many things Sherlock wanted to say, they all wanted to rush out together in a jumble of silly sentiment.

He went with his second instinct. He hooked his arms around her and bowed his head, his mouth meeting hers. He poured all of those words of affection into the crush of his lips. Molly mewled softly against his mouth. Her umbrella slipped from her fingers as they found purchase in the dampening fabric of Sherlock's jacket.

This was where he was meant to be. He had been running through London for years. He realized now he was always running to this one moment, to this one place. To the rain-soaked street outside of 221 Baker Street, with Molly Hooper in his arms.


	2. Quiet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock can't concentrate because of the noise at Baker Street.

_I can’t think. -S_

_It’s too loud here. -S_

Molly had been getting texts from Sherlock for an hour, complaining about the noise on Baker Street. There was a construction crew working on the pavement, making the soundtrack of Sherlock’s work a jackhammer. 

He was not happy about it and he made sure Molly knew about it.

Finally having enough of his complaints, she sent him a text: _Come into the morgue. <3_

Fifteen minutes later, Sherlock was striding into the morgue, looking irritated and puzzled. “Why did you want me to come in? I’m on a case right now, Molly.“

"As you’ve been whinging to me for an hour, I’m very aware of that, Love,” Molly sighed. She rolled the second slab out. “I’m going to help you think.“ 

Sherlock huffed out an annoyed breath. “Molly, I’m not in the mood for a—”

“Oh God, _no_!” Molly cried. “I didn’t mean _that_! Now lie down.“ She gestured to the slab. 

Sherlock eyed it warily. “Are you _sure_ you didn’t mean _that_?”

Molly rolled her eyes again. “Very sure. Just lay down.“ 

"Has it been sterilized?” Sherlock asked.

“Yes,” Molly huffed. “Just do it. You keep saying how Baker Street is too loud for you to concentrate. Well… Dead Men Make No Noise.“ 

It was now Sherlock’s turn to roll his eyes. “Don’t make jokes, Molly.” But he obligingly lay down on the slab.

Molly settled herself on the slab next to Sherlock. She closed her eyes and steepled her hands. 

“This is ridiculous, Molly.”

“Do you mind? I’m in my mind palace,” Molly replied. 

Sherlock grumbled. “I do _not_ sound like that!“

Molly scowled. “Just listen, Sherlock." 

"I don’t hear anything.”

“That’s the whole point.”

After a few minutes of silence, Molly opened her eyes and looked over at Sherlock. She smiled when she saw him obviously deep in concentration, finally able to think. She hopped up from the slab so she could get back to work on her paperwork. Before she went to her desk, she pressed a kiss to Sherlock’s forehead. 

“You know, now that it’s quiet, _that_ might actually help me thinking clearer…” Sherlock murmured.

Molly crinkled her nose. “Watch yourself. You might be able to think clearer shut up in the cupboard.“


	3. The Swap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and Molly go through an uncomfortable switch...

Weird had become something of the status quo since Sherlock Holmes first swept into Molly Hooper’s morgue, looking gorgeous and as if he owned the place and everything in it. Really, he had laid claim to everything in the morgue. Especially Molly.

That was never truer than at the current moment. When ‘weird’ had taken on a completely new definition.

Of course, it was not so much _Sherlock’s_ fault as it was Molly’s. She knew that deep down. She was the one who decided they should go on a double date with her old school roommate and her husband. That double date had inexplicably led to Molly now being a six-foot-tall, curly-haired man.

Molly blamed Sherlock for the whole situation only because of how _well_ he was taking the whole thing. He thought it a very interesting experiment to now being in a woman’s body. He had taken to wearing tight, short skirts and tight shirts that showed off what little cleavage she had in order to exploit men. Molly didn’t much care for her body being flaunted for the sole purpose of investigations.

It was also _weird_ to make love to herself, something Sherlock seemed very keen to explore. Of course, she loved Sherlock no matter what body he was in. Yet this just seemed… Pervy. But Sherlock kept telling her that, should they ever sort things out, the experience would just allow him to better understand how to give Molly pleasure.

_Yeah right._

Despite now being in _his_ body, Sherlock was still able to cut Molly down about her physical appearance. Perhaps some of it was self-loathing, Molly wasn’t sure. Maybe she just had no idea how to carry herself as a man. She didn’t _want_ to know. She’d abandoned Sherlock’s tailored suits in favour of t-shirts and jeans with a lab coat over top. She didn’t really want to look like him. She wanted nothing more than to have her own body back.

Dammit, Sherlock was having too much fun.

Molly found Sherlock’s body misbehaving yet again, unable to grip a scalpel correctly with his large hands as she attempted to make an incision on the body she was currently examining.

The door then swung open and Sherlock strode in. Molly almost didn’t recognize herself. Why was Sherlock able to make her attractive in ways that she didn’t think possible? “Molly, I need to take a look at Mister Jenkins before you do the post-mortem.”

“Sherlock, I’m just starting…” Molly frowned and pulled of her (his?) gloves, bringing a hand up to her (Sherlock’s?) hair. “Sherlock, is that fringe? Did you give me fringe?”

Sherlock rolled his (hers? Oh, the pronouns were going to kill Molly). “We look better this way, don’t you think?”

“It’s my body, Sherlock!” Molly protested. “You can’t just do what you want with it!”

Sherlock smirked at Molly. “You always enjoy what I do with your body.”

Molly knew those sculpted cheeks were turning a shade of red they’d never turned while in the possession of their original owner. “That is completely… I… That was not the… I want my body back!”

Sherlock took hold of the lapels of Molly’s lab coat, pulling her down to his level. “Molly, you’re going to need to get a hold of yourself.” He pressed a kiss to her lips. “Just relax.”

“Easy for you to say,” Molly sighed. “You’re having a ball!”

This whole situation was going to kill her.

Then, she let out a sigh of relief when she heard the straining VWORP-VWROP fill the morgue and the now familiar blue box appeared next to the body she was to examine.

The Doctor stuck his head out the doors of the police box. “Right. There you two are. It’s going to be a bit longer.”

“No rush,” Sherlock said, giving the Doctor a casual smile.

No, actually the whole situation was going to kill _them_. Molly would make sure of it.


	4. Surprise Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the Fall, Sherlock returns to Molly. It's a surprise for both of them.

Home. 

He was finally home. 

Sherlock was back in London for the first time in over a year. He had been wandering for so long, tracking down members of Moriarty’s syndicate. One by one the members were eliminated, either by Mycroft’s apprehension of them or… Less savoury means.

But it was over. He was done. 

He was back to his life now.

He was back to her.

In the time he had spent at Molly Hooper’s flat, the pair had grown close— closer than he thought was possible for him. But there it was. He was completely, utterly, irrevocably in love with Molly Hooper. 

Their relationship has subsisted on scant few text messages and phone calls for a year. Molly had remained faithfully dedicated to him, waiting for his return.

It was now time. 

John could wait until the morning. Besides, the man had a fiancée in his bed, best not to wake them. But Molly— Molly would be more than happy to have him at this late an hour.

He still had keys to Molly’s flat. He dug them out of his pocket and unlocked the door. He crept in quietly. Toby barely raised his head at his entry. Sherlock took off his shoes and walked towards the bedroom. As he went, he shucked his jacket, loosened his shirt and rolled up his sleeves. 

There she was, curled up against her pillow. Moonlight filtered through the partially opened blinds, illuminating Molly’s pale skin. He smiled softly. He was really home now.

He lifted the covers on the empty side of the bed and slipped in next to her. He dropped a gentle kiss to her neck. 

An elbow smashed into his nose. Sherlock yelped as pain wracked him, blood quickly beginning to slide down to his lips.

Molly screamed, wrenching herself out of his embrace. She kicked and yelled, the covers fluttering around them in the chaos. 

They settled once Molly scrambled out of bed. Sherlock scowled, covering his bleeding nose. Molly was at the opposite side of the room now, back against the wall and eyes wide. She clutched a cricket bat in her hand.

“Are you quite done?” Sherlock grumbled. 

Molly’s eyes widened even further. “…Sh-Sherlock?”

“Who else would it be?” Sherlock demanded. 

“Some random pervert!” Molly squeaked. She lowered the bat slowly. “If I had any idea it was you I wouldn’t have…"

Sherlock sighed softly. Despite the pain, he was glad Molly was able to defend herself. Sherlock reached the other out to her. “Maybe you should give me the proper reception now.“ 

Molly smiled and dropped the bat. She took Sherlock’s hand and slipped back into bed. She leaned in to kiss him.

Just before her lips touched his, her nose bumped his, sending another jolt of pain through him. Sherlock winced. “Maybe we should take care of my nose first.”


	5. Important Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly alerts Sherlock to some new developments

Sherlock sat on the sofa of 221B Baker Street. His eyes were closed and his fingers were steepled as he went through the corridors of his mind palace. The case he was on was particularly tricky.

“Sherlock?" 

The voice of his wife penetrated the fog he’d put up around himself. Normally, he blocked out everyone when he was in his mind palace. Molly was different. Molly could get through.

Even if he did hear her, he wasn’t going to break his concentration. He answered her with a small grunt. 

"Sherlock, we need to talk.”

“Busy,” Sherlock replied tersely. 

He heard the footsteps coming up behind him. He opened his eyes and looked up. Molly was hanging over him. “It’s important.“

Sherlock scowled up at her. “I am trying to solve a double homicide. There is nothing you can say that is more important than—" 

"I’m pregnant,” Molly blurted out.

Sherlock blinked at Molly. He twisted his body and grabbed tightly to her waist, tugging her close. He buried his face in her flat belly, his nose pressing against her navel. 

After a moment, he realized just how forcefully he’d clutched her. He released her, looking up at her with wide eyes. “Are you all right? I-I didn’t grab you too tightly, did I?“

Molly rolled her eyes. “I’m pregnant, not made of glass, you clot.”

“Clot?” Sherlock repeated incredulously. He tugged Molly down onto the sofa and began to tickle her. “I’ll show you who’s a clot.“

"Wha—” Molly wheezed between giggles. “What about your case?“

Sherlock grabbed up his mobile, sending a quick text off to Lestrade. “I have more important things to take care of.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus brings to an end the LexCee Collaborations... Well, not really. Just the ones I can find on my Tumblr. They may well be more. And who knows what the future will hold?


End file.
